


Carnivorous

by akblake



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 04:59:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1766377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akblake/pseuds/akblake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo and Thorin's wedding night may not have gone exactly to plan inside of their reclaimed apartment in Erebor... much to Bilbo's embarrassment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carnivorous

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a typo I found in a fic (lovely auto-correct fail - I laughed myself silly), and my twisted little mind decided to create *such* a mental image for it that I had to share. Plot bunny would not stop nibbling at my toes until I wrote it out, really! ;)

Bilbo limped in to join the others and gingerly sat at Thorin’s side before he helped himself to the meager spread of food on their table. Smaug may have been slain and the battle won, but that did not mean that the farms of men would magically begin to produce crops immediately, even with both him and the elves lending their help to the effort.

 

“How’s yer apartments, Bilbo, did you and our _exalted one_ have a rough night of it for you to be limping so?” Bofur poked gentle jibes at them both, and Bilbo felt his face heat up in an unmistakable blush. When he looked over, Thorin was gifting Bofur with an unimpressed glare, though Bilbo couldn’t tell whether it was for the new and irreverent title or for the insinuation that he’d harm his new husband on their wedding night.

 

Squirming uncomfortably on the hard stone bench, Bilbo considered his answer. “Well, I suppose that the apartments would be wonderful, if the bathtub wasn’t carnivorous,” he explained, and watched the entire table fall silent to blink at him as they tried to parse his statement.

 

“Err… lad, perhaps you meant _cavernous_ , as in incredibly deep and large? We dwarves do tend to build on a grand scale, and perhaps you’re simply not used to…” Balin diplomatically tried to correct.

 

Bilbo shook his head firmly to dispel the notion that he may have been mistaken. “Nope, I mean _carnivorous_. As in- there is something living in our pipes which swam out and _bit_ _me_ as I bathed.”

 

Around the table foreheads furrowed into concerned lines and mouths drew down into tight frowns as dwarves considered the danger posed. Thorin, however, sat there with his head down and shoulders shaking suspiciously. Finally, a smothered and squeaking snigger erupted from the King. All attention snapped to Thorin to discover the source of his outburst.

 

“It bit him on the _bum_ , and he spent the rest of the night complaining about it,” Thorin explained, and the rest of the company dissolved into roaring laughter as Bilbo furiously _glared_ at his traitorous husband.

 

He leaned in to keep his words private, “You do know you’ll be sleeping on the smallest stone couch I can find for telling them that?” Bilbo promised, even as Thorin gave him a wicked grin, not in the least bothered by the threat.

 

His dwarf moved even closer to whisper in his ear, “I can’t blame the creature for nibbling on your bum- it’s such a delectable morsel that I’m tempted to do so even here in front of witnesses.”

 

The warm, moist breath against his ear and Thorin’s words renewed his blush in a hot rush which nearly took his breath away. “Thorin!” he yelped, and immediately whacked his husband across the upper arm in outrage. His dwarf merely laughed, and Bilbo spent the rest of breakfast in a mortified huddle as Óin loudly demanded to see the bite and make sure that it was treated properly, while the others amused themselves with jokes and even a pantomime of the previous night’s fracas with Fíli hopping around holding his bum while Kíli “heroically” tried to save him from the “dastardly” attack.

 

 _Oh yes_ , his husband was certainly going to spend a week sleeping on the shortest, hardest stone couch or bench that Bilbo could locate. He’d even make sure to find a threadbare blanket and depleted pillow, too. Bilbo was no idiot- he’d grown up watching his mother train his father into becoming one of the best and most attentive husbands in the shire, and Thorin had no idea just what he was dealing with!


End file.
